From a special issue of Open Letter, celebrating the purchase of Cluny in November 1975.

In the past two years one of our main challenges has been accommodating an increasing number of guests and members. We have tried to respond to the challenge by acquiring more accommodation in the caravan park and Findhorn village. Such action has helped meet our immediate needs, but not long term ones.

This was the situation when an American public relations man visited last April and pointed out that Findhorn’s increasing public exposure was bound to have repercussions, no matter how naturally and smoothly it was coming about. The view he presented, from years of experience as a promoter, was that so much snowballing publicity would eventually create a near avalanche of people wanting to visit Findhorn. He asked us point blank what we were going to do about it.

Peter suddenly remembered Cluny Hill Hotel and realised it would be perfect for guests. He had put it out of his mind long ago so he could concentrate on Findhorn, and until the promoter’s question had assumed the return to Cluny Hill was still in the future.

Knowing Findhorn was currently involved in its largest project to date, the building of the University Hall (Universal Hall), Peter’s first thought was to call the solicitor Phimister Brown about his original offer to buy Cluny and hire Peter as its manager (see Cluny Hill Hotel 1957-1962). He phoned and suggested Phimister buy the hotel, and that Findhorn put it to use in accommodating guests. Phimister liked the idea and agreed to contact the managing director of the company.

His conversation with the managing director was startling. Phimister expressed an interest in acquiring the hotel and asked if they had ever considered selling it. The managing director replied with surprise that either Phimister had a spy among the board of directors or else he was psychic, for that very day the board of directors had decided to sell the Cluny Hill Hotel.

To Peter, this ‘coincidence’ was God’s unmistakable indication that we were to go ahead in faith and purchase the hotel ourselves. This needed to be shared with others before a decision could be made, however. Peter knew deep within that it was right, of course – Findhorn had been built on such auspicious circumstances – but there were others responsible for different aspects of the community who needed to know this from within as well.

When such inspiration for the growth of the community comes, it is not a matter of going along with Peter as an authority. It means trusting his attunement and working with him from one’s own. Some people knew instantly that the Cluny Hill idea was right; others reserved judgement or had queries. All these viewpoints were valuable in planning the best course of action.

When Peter discussed this with the core group they felt it was definitely worth considering and suggested the planning group explore it. This group had dinner at the hotel and was able to see the building and grounds. The hotel appeared ideal for Findhorn’s purposes (there was even a separate billiards room which had a high beamed ceiling, skylights and bay window which seemed perfectly suitable to become a sanctuary) and they returned full of optimism over the possibilities.

When Phimister met with the planning group, his proposals turned out to be exactly in line with their own. He suggested that instead of his buying the hotel, Findhorn should purchase it and run it as part of the Foundation, that the community should have only its own guests there and should serve vegetarian meals. His financial estimates were similar to the figures the group had projected. When the discussion ended, everyone agreed they had taken a great step forward.

The intuitive idea to buy Cluny Hill Hotel emerged from this meeting with Phimister as a definite project. We realised the community was capable of financing it through a bank loan if necessary. The hotel could hold up to 120 guests and 20 to 30 staff. It was clear Cluny Hill was a lot more than a new age hotel, however. The project involved reawakening and re-establishing a centre of light. The major question became how the Findhorn experience could best be recreated at Cluny Hill.

Buying the hotel would obviously give the community much needed room to grow, and would allow the Findhorn campus to concentrate on developing drama, dance and music within the University Hall, and arts and crafts in the Pineridge studios. On a practical level the hotel would add extensive accommodation, several lecture and workshop rooms, a laundry, bakery, large garage, small heated swimming pool, tennis pavilion with two courts, three vegetable gardens, a greenhouse and five acres of grounds, as well as create a need for centralised accounting, purchasing and bulk food and fuel storage systems which could improve our efficiency considerably. We began to see that joining Cluny to Findhorn would involve more than blending the two centres together, because through the principle of synergy we would be creating a whole greater than the sum of both parts.

The entire community decided to meet and see whether we were all in harmony with a decision to go ahead. Before this small parties led by Peter began going to Cluny Hill so that they could attune to the situation for themselves. They would drive along the road in front of the hotel, park on the other side of the hill and walk to the top which overlooks the hotel and the valley beyond. Many people could sense the sacred quality of this spot. Peter would point out some of the hotel’s facilities and perhaps mention such details as how the young head gardener he had hired in 1957, though not so young any more, was still at the hotel just as the guidance had said (see Cluny Hill 1957-62). After talking quietly the group would hold hands and have a silent meditation together.

During the week before the meeting, people were already being drawn to Findhorn to work at Cluny. A letter arrived from former members, Jill and Angus Marland, which said, “I feel I have a training coming my way. I was thinking about hotel management. If we return, we feel we would not want to be directly involved with the community, living and working in the usual way. We are open to being around the area; being affiliated, half-involved. We are sure you understand what we mean.” Peter remarked that he knew exactly what Jill and Angus meant, although they couldn’t have had a clue about the Cluny Hill project when they wrote the letter.

The day before the community meeting we received two cheques in the mail. One for £2,000 was from a woman in Holland who had visited Findhorn several times. Another was from a woman in America who was to have organised a party to tour the spiritual centres of Britain, conducted by Christopher and David Caddy in the community’s van. She had to cancel the tour after sending Findhorn the cheque for it. Her letter said, “When I asked why my angels permitted me to send the cheque if the trip was not to materialise, the answer was immediate: ‘You would leave something to Findhorn in your will but their need is NOW’.”

The community meeting was on a Friday evening in early August. Peter presented his perspective and read some of the experiences ROC and other sensitives had had at Cluny Hill. He mentioned that David Spangler had once had a dream of Cluny Hill as a college in the University of Light. (David later wrote, “I feel a deep sense of rightness about the purchase of Cluny Hill Hotel and see it as a vital step in the unfoldment of Findhorn and its work. I remember very well the dream I had of the hotel being used as a college building. It could be the primary public contact point with the community’s work.”)

Colour slides from the Caddys’ years at the hotel were shown then a meditation was held. An open sharing followed. Some queries were discussed and most members offered affirmations about the project. Dick Barton told of a vision he experienced during the meditation: he saw a huge rainbow arching from the top of Cluny Hill to the roof of University Hall and heard the words, This is My centre.

Michael Shaw ended the evening by saying, “I think I’ve thrown every possibility of a practical nature that I can think of against the planning group over the past three weeks and a solution for every one of them has fallen into place. I’ve gradually come to the conclusion that despite the apparent illogicality of this decision, it just might be the will of God that we acquire the hotel. And if it is the will of God, then in the next weeks, when all kinds of other outside actions are taking place – directors holding board meetings, accountants going over the books, the right people deciding to come to Findhorn, and others being prompted to play a part in all kinds of ways unknown to us – all we need to do ourselves is keep our thoughts positive and the will of God will be made manifest. ”

With the community behind the proposal, the process of acquiring Cluny Hill Hotel went steadily forward. Negotiations with the company were handled by the planning and finance groups, with Phimister Brown acting as solicitor.

During the next three months we accomplished some of the preliminary planning for the project. Although some people thought we should use the term ‘centre’ because it was more neutral, the name Cluny Hill College was chosen because of our commitment to new age education and so that Cluny Hill would be clearly recognised as part of the University of Light. Angus Marland became focaliser of the seed group of people who would be living and working there. The college and guest departments began developing an expanded guest programme which would start in March 1976. The finance group projected the financial flows for the next two years and discussed them with the bank. The trustees met and unanimously approved the project.

We reached an initial agreement with the company owning the hotel in October. The offer of £60,000, which we considered fair, was first rejected as unacceptable by the managing director but he was overruled by his board, who accepted our terms. The asking price had been £100,000.

A crisis in the negotiations came when some unexpected complications appeared. One condition of the contract was that we would fufil the fire regulations. This would have to be completed within 18 months and could cost an estimated £25,000 if done by an outside firm. On top of this a survey revealed the hotel’s rafters needed a dry rot treatment which, though relatively routine, would cost £8,000. We were prepared to take this on readily enough, but another contract clause, that we should accept all the hotel’s forward bookings for 1976, proved more challenging (see article below). Most of these bookings were coach tours averaging 50 people a day for several months next summer. All our efforts to eliminate this clause were unsuccessful.

Peter and Eileen were away visiting a light centre in Turkey and had left the decision entirely in the community’s hands. The hotel company said that unless we accepted the bookings the deal was off. The community had nowhere to turn but within. The core group met for three hours and from their attunement decided to buy the hotel in the confidence that this was the right thing to do, whether it meant we ourselves would have to accommodate the coach parties or whether we would be able to arrange to have them accommodated elsewhere.

By taking responsibility for its own inner direction with this project, the community seemed to be expressing a more mature relationship with the God within and to be embodying more fully these words of David Spangler: “We move from an age of obedience into an age of communication, and guidance must be seen not as what God wishes to be done in specific actions with man as his servant to carry them out, but as the communication of the Presence of God to man, that the two may become one.”

The decision to purchase was made on November 17, thirteen years to the day from the time Peter and Eileen moved their caravan on to the sand dunes of the Findhorn Bay Caravan Park. The news that we were going ahead in faith was shared with the community that evening during the celebration of its thirteenth birthday.

From Open Letter 9.

“We’re at the halfway point,” began George Catlin, construction focaliser, at a mid-February Friday afternoon attunement of the Cluny Hill work group. “We started six weeks ago and it’s just six weeks until our first hotel guests arrive. This might be a good time to see what we’ve accomplished and how much more we have to do.” He started checking various items off the fourteen page flow chart, prepared by Dick Barton, which encompassed every area of work to be done in renovating Cluny Hill Hotel for occupancy about March 15 by community members and for the first workshop on April 3.

To those used to an intuitive, in-the-moment, flow-as-you-are, guided pattern of life in a spiritual community, and others who remembered the days when the Findhorn community was run by Peter through Eileen’s guidance, such organisation was a little difficult to adjust to. Cashflow budgets, order tally forms and purchase order forms smacked too much of patterns happily left behind when one came to Findhorn, but these ‘new’ rhythms have proved not only useful but very necessary to keep within budgets during the renovating work.

During January and February the original work lists had grown longer and longer and the magnitude of work was creating thought forms like ‘how can we possibly get ready on time?’ Such limitations had to be dispelled by concentrating on seeing the hotel as a smoothly functioning extension of the Findhorn community. From ten full time workers the first month, the numbers gradually increased, and Wednesday and Saturday afternoons became Cluny Hill days, when 30 to 35 other community members joined for intensive work such as ditch digging, rubble clearing, wall scraping, painting etc.

A tour of the hotel early in March revealed that the work was progressing well. The main kitchen had been steam cleaned, new wiring installed and the floor tile laid. Two new boilers had been installed and chimneys built for them, and a 1,500 gallon fuel tank was installed and its retaining walls built. A two-foot thick rock wall had been cut through in the Sanctuary room (the old billiard room) for a fire door, and the walls prepared for new finishes.

The dark and dreary basement quarters had undergone the most dramatic transformation in order to house community staff members; stove, refrigerator, sink and cabinets had been installed in a newly created kitchen; all the rooms had been patched and repainted and the floors sanded and ready for varnish; most of the furniture had been stripped and was ready for stain or paint. On the upper floors major patching, repairs and painting were nearing completion. Dozens of other projects had already been finished yet the enormous amount of work still to be done staggered the imagination.

Meanwhile in the gardens Ian Campbell and his crew were busily cleaning out the green-house and potting shed, clearing away debris, building up the soil, clipping hedges, pruning, weeding, building compost bins, and planting broad beans and peas. On the domestic end Joanie Hartnell-Beavis and Celeste Akhurst were organising the mountains of linens, making beds and having sheets mended, while Caroline Shaw, up until a few days before the birth of her daughter Isla Marie, was working with Margie Elliot and the Environmental Design group on colour co-ordination in all the rooms (ordering carpeting and rugs, drapery and upholstery fabrics).

It was decided that several hundred pounds could be saved if we ourselves made curtains and recovered 45 chairs for use in the Sanctuary. Much other work was also going on behind the scenes: Paul Plagerson was looking into sources of kitchen supplies and food deliveries; Michael Shaw was investigating hotel running systems; Angus Marland was interviewing and hiring local help to supplement our staff. Peter was everywhere; loading work parties into vans for Cluny, investigating the work in every nook and cranny, or, when he had time, working in the garden and putting his vibrations into the soil.

There is a great deal of camaraderie evident in the groups that have been working at Cluny Hill. Each morning at 10.30 the unmistakable aroma of toasting bread wafts through the halls and draws us all to the ‘brew’ room where our oneness is amplified as we crowd with ravenous appetites around the toaster and the kettle. It becomes further intensified when the van returns from the community about 12.30 with steaming kettles of hot soup and all the makings for lunch. An intensity and concentration pervades our work, perhaps because of the currents of energy which seem to flow through the corridors, saturating the rooms, charging the air and vitalising all who are there.

Working to recreate Cluny Hill as a centre of light is also giving us daily opportunity to put into practice the principles we so often talk about at Findhorn, under conditions of increased pressure and deadlines. The question was asked at an attunement, how do you handle working under these conditions ? A new member, Stan Stanfield, said there was always the sense of urgency but he had to release all anxiety about being overwhelmed by the amount of work expected of him. He simply worked to the best of his ability.

Russell Holland shared that his experience in the kitchen, which had been a badly neglected area over many years, provided an important lesson. It had taken several people four weeks to cut through the grease with steam cleaning equipment. They could feel very tangible negative energies emanating from the kitchen itself which they felt were responsible for the machine repeatedly breaking down and for a succession of freak accidents. As Russell put it, “We found we had to operate on as high a spiritual level as we could achieve in order to get anything to manifest on physical levels. If we were stumped, we finally learned to ask the devas what to do – and then the ideas would flow.” Another reminded us that no one could do more than be responsible for his own part, and trust that every other person was doing the same thing. The group felt the importance of a sense of togetherness as a separate work department to dispel a feeling of separation from the community at Findhorn.

As the final powerful push was made for the opening buffet and dance on Saturday March 27, Cluny Hill shed its appearance as a construction site and almost overnight appeared totally transformed. The building, framed by newly planted flowering annuals, glowed and pulsated with new vibrance and power. Unmistakably, the sleeping giant which was Cluny when we took possession on December 1 had awakened.

This article, telling how the Cluny Family interacted with the holiday coach tours they were contractually obliged to host during their first summer, 1976, was printed in Open Letter 10.

Tension and excitement were in the air at Cluny Hill Hotel the evening of Saturday May 1. The first coach tour of the season had been due at dinnertime and since then more than two hours had passed without any sign of them.

The dining room servers and waitresses were passing the time chatting with other Findhorn community members who had come for an evening of dancing and games in the ballroom, only to be caught up in the general air of anticipation as well. It was obvious the dancing wouldn’t start until the coach tour arrived. The community members were still at the stage of looking closely every time a car came up the drive, but the Cluny members had passed that point long ago. They’d already had plenty of false alarms. Ike Isaksen had even been out to scan the horizon with binoculars and had waved a broomstick with a Union Jack-design apron tied to it in the air, but once that comic relief didn’t work, the Cluny members had little to do except wait.

Then the phone rang. It was the local police station saying they’d just given directions to Cluny Hill Hotel to a coach-load of forty people. The tour party had been spotted and were on their way ! This news was soon everywhere in the building, except for the upstairs lounge where a guest workshop on ‘Revelation: The Birth of a New Age’ was in deep and undisturbed progress.

The people in the coach party were worried about what kind of reception they would get for being two hours late. As they stopped in front of the hotel they were met by popping flashbulbs, some excited children, and a swarm of people greeting them and carrying in their luggage. It was a most unexpected welcome; the hotel people who met them were acting as if they’d never seen a coach tour before !

After the party had settled into the hotel for their week-long stay, they really began to explore their situation. By the second day so many of them had requested to see the Findhorn community that group tours were arranged for those interested. The people in this first coach party were farmers and old age pensioners over 65 years old from Yorkshire. Many of those who toured the community knew a lot about gardening from a lifetime’s experience of doing it and of living close to the land.

They showed a remarkable appreciation and love for the plants in the Findhorn garden and they paused to linger and look more closely many times during their relaxed tours. Their community guides came away rested from the leisurely pace of the tours and with a totally fresh view of the flower beds that we see every day. The bookshop was a popular stop on the tours and the guest groups returned to Cluny carrying books on health foods and gardening, along with copies of God Spoke To Me and even a Revelation: The Birth Of A New Age or two.

Back at the hotel, the Cluny members were being continually surprised at the helpfulness of their guests. The Yorkshire women helped us with meals and some were even drifting into the kitchen to help with the washing up.

One night when the Cluny bar was crowded with people actively talking and laughing, one of the coach tour guests asked that the music in the background be turned off and be replaced by the New Troubadours. As this music began, conversation ceased. Very soon nearly everyone was listening intently to the songs, and the few times when any community members wandered into the bar talking, they were promptly shushed.

One man’s comments were typical of many heard around the hotel during the week. When asked how he was enjoying his stay he replied, “Lovely. It’s a revelation. Really remarkable. Everybody’s so happy and giving real smiling service – something we’re not used to these days.”

Another conversation with a Mr. Hull proved interesting as well. He said, “We came with a very open mind – I did anyway. Now I’ve seen what commune life is like in a University of Light. I must admit, and I’ll speak for us all, we’re thrilled with it really.” Edwin Maynard asked him if he had known he was coming to a place run by a community and he replied, “Oh yes. I read about it in the Scottish Field magazine. I’m a Scotsman, you see. My brother-in-law is a doctor in Glasgow and I told him to send me cuttings from any Scottish paper which had anything about Findhorn in it. So I’ve been kept posted with whatever sort of information that’s been floating around. I was more conversant with the running of the place and what’s going on here than anyone else. I kept Mrs. Wills, the lady who’s running the tour, informed and I told her as much as possible about what the community was like.

“The others didn’t know about Findhorn you see. My wife and I don’t live near the main group. We live in York and all the others are from farm country around Whitley. It’s real rural Yorkshire so we only see them two or three times a year as a group.”

Richard Borden commented that they really seemed like a group when they came off the bus. Mr. Hull replied, “Well we are; we’re sort of one big happy family. We’re knit together. We go on holidays twice a year, in the autumn after the farming people have got their harvest in and then in the spring after lambing time. That’s the only time the farmers can really feel free to leave, you see.”

Near the end of the week a second coach arrived for a two day stay; the start of a regular rhythm of several parties per week that will keep up throughout the season. One woman from this second tour who was near the end of her stay was asked how she was enjoying Cluny Hill Hotel. She said, “Oh, very much. I didn’t know what to expect when I came. We’d no idea it was different than other hotels. I’d never heard of the Findhorn Foundation. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed my visit. It’s been good fun – a great lark. I’m going to write a book about it when I get home. Might even be a bestseller !”

From Open Letter 13. The conferences referred to were World Crisis And The Wholeness Of Life, Creative Renewal and Towards A European Spiritual Community, all held in October 1976.

At the end of the summer’s coach tours (see article above) on October 1st, we were so busy there was no time for a celebration. The Last Coach from Cluny slipped out like a ship to sea, as we readied for the next day’s onslaught of conference participants.

Having little experience of conferences to go by, we couldn’t know quite what to expect. The first week often seemed crazy and chaotic to people working at the reception desk. Most conference goers accepted the roommates they discovered themselves arranged with, and found the week an unexpected experience of wholeness, but some let the desk know you can’t always tell gender by the name these days !

Although the reception gals aged considerably, all other departments seemed to go with the flow rather smoothly, including, miraculously, the kitchen and dining room, in a memorable display of grace under pressure. Or maybe it was the wine served at dinner time that made things seem so mellow in that area….

This period also saw the end of the swimming pool for the year, which was drained and covered over on October 13, henceforth to be known in Cluny’s history as Black Wednesday. The end of our summer had officially come.

And with the hotel stage of Cluny officially over, the attention of the resident commun-ity has been directed to consideration of its upcoming college aspect. We’ve been deal-ing with such questions as how to handle the numbers of prospective members/guests/ Findhorn commuters pouring in on us and still keep a sense of family. What is the meaning of a family ? Is it a support system, and, if so, what does it support, etc ? It’s clear we will be learning, on the job as it were, how to care for each other.

From ‘Cluny Hill Notes’, Open Letter 14.

Looking back over the past few months a distinct change of mood is discernible in life at Cluny. As befits the lengthening nights of autumn, the feeling is a much quieter one. Gone is the sometimes frenetic intensity of the coach-party and conference days. We have, instead, settled into a steady rhythm of activities concerned with education, both our own and that of our guests.

With the arrival of 35 new members for orientation (student member programme) in November, the size of the resident community here has doubled. No longer are we such a tightly-knit group with a highly specific and practical job of catering. We have moved from being a hotel to a college and are in the process of experiencing the change of identity this brings. Intent as we are on altering the concept of a place of teaching, we have no definite blueprints for the future and must simply respond to creative suggestions as they appear, and are thus experiencing a time of self-examination and new direction.

One of the opportunities for growth in this respect is the Essence Of Findhorn programme, which has attracted nineteen people to spend three months participating in workshops and working in community departments. Finding the balance between mental input, experiential exercise, meditative practice and plain simple work is one of the interesting situations this presents. Having people with us for a quarter of a year provides us with a new category of resident – neither guest nor member – and enables us to look at our capacity for integrating groups into the fabric of our lives.

Yet although the tone of existence here has been more mellow than during the summer months, that energy of laughter and high spirits (with its uniquely Cluny feeling) bursts out in frequent festivities. At our first birthday party on November 17 the dining room staff outdid themselves with a splendid extravaganza of the bizarre, in the form of fancy-dressed servers capable of dance, theatre or any form of entertainment.

At Thanksgiving an American-style meal gave an insight into the true spirit of gratitude as Pilgrims and Indians mixed freely, while the Christmas dinner eaten at Cluny by the whole community was an occasion of great celebration and warmth, especially when the pudding was carried in, aflame with burning brandy in solid British style.

An occasion not to be missed during December was the extraordinary spectacle of the RAF Kinloss Scottish pipers and drummers marching in formation up and down the dining room. To see the kilts and plaids swirl through the heart of Cluny enabled one to grasp the power of this tradition to stir the friend and terrify the foe. The whole event was another step towards increased friendship and cooperation with our uniformed neighbours, as anyone who dropped into the bar after the performance can testify.

But perhaps the highlight of the season has been the return of that incomparable master of movement, Bernard Wosien, his wife, and his equally remarkable daughter, Gabrielle, to offer us an intensive workshop in sacred dance. A group came together for three hours every day in the ballroom for two weeks to experience the subtle ecstacy of performing mainly Greek meditative folk dances, which contain symbolically the wisdom of the Eleusinian and Egyptian mysteries.

However, being at Cluny is not all work and play. The more relaxed mood has allowed us to explore fully the surrounding countryside with its many miles of beautiful fields and woodlands. Outside the constant activities of the college is a charming land filled with wood pigeons, doves, red squirrels and the occasional heron. It has been an exquisite winter with days of sunbeams filtering through low-lying mists, and nights of clear moonlight reflecting from snow-covered paths and branches.

In the bustle of life inside the building it is sometimes possible to go days without putting a foot outside, but each time one consciously spends a little time in the stillness of Nature, the reward is to return and see Cluny with fresh eyes – a fine old building looking out over the forests of Moray and beyond, with an increasing aura of light and joy.

Published as ‘A Different Viewpoint’, Open Letter 20.

In some ways the North of Scotland seems a funny place for something like Findhorn. After all, very few local people have heard of a ‘new age’. It has long been a paradox that the community is better known in California than in Inverness and Elgin. An extraordinary situation arose therefore when the Cluny Hill Hotel opened for the coach party season a few years ago (as detailed in article 3 above). The thirty or so community members who manned it were aided by various ladies from Forres, who had formerly worked in normal hotels and shops, and who came to help prepare tea and coffee for the guests, wash pots and pans, and change the beds each morning.

One may well wonder what happens when hired staff ready to do a regular day’s work walk into a centre like Findhorn. What would be the experience of a woman coming to the community with little or no preconceptions of its nature or its work, yet finding herself in the midst of its activities for an extended period of time ? How does the energy differential between the community and its surroundings express itself in day to day human affairs ?

At the end of last year it became clear that the number of members at Cluny had finally become sufficient, so we no longer needed external help. The situation was explained to the ladies, who had become our long-time co-workers and friends, and they decided it was appropriate to leave. However, before they did so, I thought it would be interesting to have a chat with them and gain some sense of their outlook on the community as they really have a unique perspective.

Five women were involved in helping the dining room prepare hot drinks and wash up cups and saucers after meals. They were Frances and Eve, both originally from the North of England and each with four children; Brenda, a mother of two who grew up in a village not far from here and, like Eve and Frances, has a husband in the Royal Air Force; Liz, who is Forres born and bred and first worked at Cluny over twenty years ago; and Jean Smith, who is a generation or two older than the others. Jean worked here immediately before Cluny was acquired by the Foundation and “came with the hotel”.

They were asked what had been the nature of their experience at ‘The Cluny’ as it is known locally. What follows is a composite of what they said.

Q. What was your attitude to the community at first ?

“I came here with an open mind. I’d heard of the Findhorn Foundation but I didn’t know what its aims were. I think that’s what made me able to stay – not surmising, letting it run its course”

“All I knew was that up at Cluny Hill were ‘the flower people.’ I didn’t know what to expect. I was nervous; I felt strange when I first came.”

“People said, ‘What ! You’re not going up there to work, are you ?” A lot of people asked me why I was taking the job. I did it because I wanted to see what it would be like. I believe in finding out for myself.”

Q. How has working here differed from your other jobs ?

“I felt I could get on with my own work. There was no one breathing down my neck. It made me want to work.”

“It’s more relaxed. You do work better without a boss. There’s no fighting and snarling. Nobody bothers you.”

“You seem so relaxed and happy. I was free. I felt as though I was at home.”

“I feel working up here I’m not so tensed up. I feel it has done me the power of good.”

“It’s not like working and having a job. There’s no one saying ‘Now get such and such done.’ Here you can take your time. You felt as though you were one of the members. No one ever complained.”

“I remember coming in the first night. I was standing in the kitchen scrubbing away and I was amazed how everyone got on working together; all these different nationalities blending together with no friction. A day in the outside world would never pass without people shouting at each other.”

Q. What was the general feeling of life at Cluny ?

“People here are so open. I always imagine that working here and getting paid people wouldn’t want to spend their time talking to an outsider. I learned later that didn’t have anything to do with it. Many times I have thought I would love to work here for nothing. The genuine sincerity of the people hit me. If there was a problem you could talk about it and there was always someone to listen.”

“You really enjoy yourselves. Everybody seems to be happy. i thought you had a quiet life like monks, but to me you’re an awful jolly crew. You never hear squabbling. If we have a problem at home we carry it with us. If you have problems you carry it into a group and break it down.”

“Everybody trusts each other; down the street it’s different. Everybody is so honest.”

“There’s a healing power in the community. Maybe you come here down in the dumps but you go home smiling. I would say you’ve got a good life. It’s a great place really.”

Q. What changes have you seen in the building ?

“If people who used to work here came up to see what’s going on they wouldn’t believe it !”

“When I think of the state the still room was in when I left (after working while Cluny was still a normal hotel) ! I couldn’t believe it was the same place.”

“It’s a lot cleaner and tidier than it ever was, especially down in the family room.”

“We were never grudged a meal or a cup of tea. In the old days you had to bring your own tea bags. What a difference now – the table’s set and you can just help yourself.

Q. What do you feel you’ve got out of being here ?

“We’ve learned a lot from you. I used to think your main concern was just the Bible but it’s not; it covers a wide variety. I dare say if I wasn’t happily married I might think of coming into the community. I look at life in a different way now. Before you just felt you were shut in. Now I feel freer. I don’t argue so much. Before I would argue black was white. I’m going to miss it; I’ll never down it.”

“I’ve got so much out of this place. It’s in my blood, this way of life.”

“If a lot more were like you it’d be a better world.”

One of the ladies ended her career at Cluny by doing the Findhorn Experience guest programme (early name for Experience Week) before she and her family moved away to join her husband who had been transferred in the RAF. At the end of that week she made these comments:

“I’ll find it hard to go now. My children liked it too. When the coach parties were here we were told it wouldn’t be right to go to sanctuary, but after that I asked and was told ‘Yes.’ I also started joining attunements. It was strange at first but now I’d like to go on learning. I’m taking a lot of books to read when I leave. I was frightened at the beginning of this week and was content to sit and listen. But no one said ‘You’ve not said anything.’ Working in publications this week we proofread Footprints On The Path (book of Eileen’s guidance published in 1978) and I had to battle with myself to keep from stopping to read it. But to find out what I’ve really learned here I’ll have to go away.”

In a final note to the community she said, “I can’t express how much the time I have spent knowing you all has meant to us. I will finally say again a great big Thank You to everyone at Cluny Hill and Findhorn for making everything possible. I hope in our small way we will be able to spread your love.”

Note. Jean Smith, mentioned above, was known to everyone at Cluny as Jeannie. She continued to work as a volunteer in the still room on Friday evenings and special occasions until her death at the age of 81 in 2001.

Published in One Earth 5

I live in a big house
It has twenty five bathrooms
It is surrounded by a large garden and a tall green forest
It is filled with many lights
Some look like people
Others take different forms
And some can’t be seen at all by normal gaze

We work and we play together
Superbly
But the specialite de la maison
The most delectable dishes of the day
Emerge from the haute cuisine of our beings
And our openness and willingness to relate purely and completely to one another
In all ways
Creating a banquet of consciousness
Fit for the noblest of palettes
Colourful
Nourishing
And
High

The house has foundations in Scotland
But its walls and ceilings extend very far
And its rooms have occupants in many different lands.

Living in a house that is also a major chakra on the planet
Means that coming down for breakfast is like taking your favourite pet for walkies
Through an electrified mine field

The risks are unbelievably high

All movements register
All actions are magnified
All reactions publicised

Even the tiniest

So sharing this house is our cover for serving dangerously
And our surviving house guests and graduates tend to be highly dextrous beings.
Fleet of foot and pure of mouth
For in this climate agility is as important as warm underwear.
Comfortable old habits that you can yawn doodle and dream your way on
Don’t last too long
And each time clumsy feet trip and detonate the little mines
Splintered thoughts and charred feelings are sprinkled throughout the corridors
Highlighting false glamours and dispelling illusions.
This can be quite disturbing for light sleepers
But fortunately . . .everyone who comes here
Arrives perfectly equipped to wake up
Ready to trust the new day
Ready to reach out through the buffer zone of fear and distortion
To defuse even the most ominously ticking parcel
And release the joy and radiance that’s held at the centre.

And here we all are
Actually doing it
Moving through this earthly mine field
With complete certainty and courage
Earth shoes and rubber souls
Moving into a heavenly meadow of our own creation

And when you see the most ordinary looking people at the next table
Accomplishing the most extraordinary leaps and twirls of consciousness
Pirouetting into the unknown
With olympian grace and mastery
Well well . . .such sights are most inspiring to this mortal self
Making me very happy to be breakfasting on earth
And thankful
In many languages,
That we are together.

I live in a large mobile house
Close by your place.
If your favourite pet is needing exercise do remember
We can always squeeze a few more chairs into the dining room.